


the world opened wide

by emjee (MerryHeart)



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (TV 2016)
Genre: College AU, F/M, First Kisses, Fluff, Love Confessions, smooches, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerryHeart/pseuds/emjee
Summary: Natasha and Pierre sit on a roof, look at the moon, and finally do something about all that tension.





	the world opened wide

 

Pierre was eyeing his clock radio and debating whether or not to go to bed at an ungodly early hour when he heard his phone buzz.

_Tasha (9:03): are you up for an adventure?_

_Pierre (9:03): Does it require shoes?_

_Tasha (9:04): yes technically but it will be worth it. There will be tea._

_Tasha (9:05): and we’ll get to sit on the roof of the music building._

_Pierre: (9:05): How did you acquire the keys to said roof?_

_Tasha (9:06): that’s classified._

_Pierre (9:07): What kind of tea?_

_Tasha (9:07): I’ll be there in five._

“It’s open!” Pierre called in reply to Natasha’s knock. He looked up from tying his shoes to see Natasha nudging the door open, wearing a peacoat and a knitted hat and trying to maintain control of two thermoses and an armful of blankets.

“Let me help you with that,” Pierre offered, pulling on his own coat and reaching for the blankets.

“Thanks,” Natasha said. “Now come on, while it’s still clear.”

He wasn’t quite sure what she meant, but he had long made peace with the fact that he would follow Natasha anywhere.

The music building was a block away. Natasha handed off one of the thermoses while she fished in her purse for a key. “Pearl and I were talking before chorale the other day,” she explained, sliding the key into the lock, “and she mentioned that her girlfriend works for the department and somehow has a key to the after-hours door, which you see before you, and that that key is incidentally the same key that opens the roof. And tonight is supposed to be such a glorious night—the equinox and all—so I begged Pearl to snag the keys for me and she came through like a true friend.”

They were halfway up the first flight of stairs at this point. “Only four more to go,” Natasha said, sounding entirely too cheerful about it.

By the time they reached the door at the top of the back staircase, Pierre was thoroughly out of breath. Natasha unlocked the last door and they crept onto the rooftop. It was nothing fancy—really just an expanse of cement between the two towers that formed the most recognizable part of the building’s façade—but it was higher than most of the surrounding buildings and the view was glorious.

“Oh, Natasha…This is perfect.” Pierre helped her spread a blanket on the ground and then settled in next to her. She draped a blanket across their shoulders and handed him tea.

“It’s ginger mint, by the way,” she said.

Pierre took a sip, which did a good job of hiding the fact that he didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t the first time he’d been this close to Natasha—the time they were snowed in and she’d fallen asleep on top of him still took the cake in that area—but, as so often happened recently, all thoughts that weren’t _Natasha is right here_ had flown out of his head.

“Look at that moon,” Natasha said. “I love that you can see the whole thing, you can see the difference between the shadow and the sky. And that crescent is so—it’s graceful.” She laughed a little to herself. “You must think I’m obsessed with it, after waking you up in January to look at it out the window.”

“I was awake, don’t worry.”

“But it’s just…I love it. It always changes but it always comes back. I like that. Things change all the time and that’s probably good, but there are always things I need to come back to me, like Sonya and Marya and Nikolai and—and you.”

Pierre blushed in the darkness. He’d taken last spring semester off to get sober, get therapy, and get meds. It was possibly the best decision he’d ever made, but he’d missed Natasha like hell and he knew it had been hard for her to have him around so much and then have him gone.

But he’d come back.

“Natasha, I—I don’t always like to make promises, because…sometimes I don’t trust myself to keep them, but I promise, Tasha, I promise I will always come back to you.”

She smiled at him over her tea.

“It’s springtime, Pierre,” she said, and he thought he felt her arm press ever so slightly against his. “I’m so glad it’s springtime. It finally feels like it.”

He glanced at her knitted hat—Marya Dmitryevna had made it for her, he was fairly sure—and knew that she wasn’t talking about the weather.

“I’m so glad, Natasha.”

She was looking at him, right into his eyes— _you’re looking at each other, you idiot,_ he thought _, you’re looking at_ each other _—_ and almost before he knew what he was doing he was bending his head down toward hers, and all he could say was, “Tasha?” and she was nodding and leaning in and all in a rush his lips were pressed to hers and everything stopped.

He felt the chill of the air on his face and the warmth of her mouth and he was somehow aware of the moon hanging somewhere above them even though he couldn’t see it.

He had meant to pull away, to stop with one kiss, just to let her know, but her hand was curling around the back of his neck and he could feel her fingers in his hair and now that he was here he wasn’t sure he could go, ever, and hadn’t he just promised he would always come back to her? And if this is how she wanted that, who was he to argue?

Over and over again, their lips met and parted, met and parted, and this, _this_ somehow was the meaning of everything. His hand came to her cheek, ran down her neck, found her hand, his fingers entwined with hers.

Natasha wound her whole arm around his neck and tried to leverage herself closer to him. She ended up overbalancing them both, and they broke apart as Pierre toppled backwards.

“Are you alright?” Natasha asked, leaning over him.

“I’m fine,” he said, failing to stifle his laughter.

“You didn’t hit your head?”

“Nope.”

“And the tea didn’t spill?”

“To be completely honest, I had forgotten about the tea.” Pierre stopped fighting and gave himself up to the laughter, feeling it tear out of his chest in that great, booming laugh he had always been somewhat ashamed of.

Natasha started giggling and worked herself into such a state that she collapsed on top of him, barely able to breathe for laughter.

“It’s not even that it’s funny,” she finally managed, wiping tears from her eyes. “I mean, it is, a little bit, but it’s more that…”

“Joy,” Pierre said. “It’s joy.”

“That’s it,” she whispered.

Natasha leaned down and touched her lips to his, slower than before, but deeper. He felt her mouth open against his and took it as an invitation to run his tongue across her lower lip. She leaned into it, opened more, and then their tongues were sliding against each other, hot and wet and positively electric.

This rooftop was very nice and he never wanted to leave.

Neither of them knew how long they stayed on the roof. It was late, that was all they knew as they stumbled back down the stairs. Natasha forgot to look at the time when she texted Sonya to say she was staying at Pierre’s ( _I’ll tell you everything later I promise I’m so happy but this time not frightened at all I love you so so much_ ). They both forgot to look at the time when they stripped each other’s coats off and got ready for bed, which took considerably longer than usual, because when you’ve just learned that you can grab for your favorite person and kiss them, it’s very tempting to seize every possible chance to do just that.

The lights were out and she was half on top of him again. He was blushing again.

“I love you, Natasha. I’ve loved you for a while.”

“Dear, dearest Pierre. I love you too. I’ve loved you for perhaps even longer than I’ve known.”

There would be so much more to talk about tomorrow, but for now, the only thing left was the warmth and smell and closeness of each other, and a deep, peaceful sleep.


End file.
